


For the Win

by Tex



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Alien Culture, Break Up, M/M, Reconciliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-02
Updated: 2013-01-02
Packaged: 2017-11-23 07:56:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/619800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tex/pseuds/Tex
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Another alien tournament. A different kind of victory.</p>
            </blockquote>





	For the Win

As they’re being led to the gaming field on S35-481, Rodney gives Sheppard’s inner arm a hard pinch.

“Oww, Rodney, what the hell?”

“I’m not doing this,” Rodney snarls under his breath. “The last time I got roped into an alien tournament, I literally got roped. And tied up like a steer. And deny it all you want but Ronon enjoyed it too much. Just – no. Count me out.” 

Sheppard tilts his head close to him and for a moment, Rodney is distracted from his anger by the disturbing nearness of Sheppard’s mouth. “Look, these are post-industrial age people. We need allies like them. So suck it up.”

***

The gaming field is – oddly familiar.

“Are you seeing this?” Sheppard whispers, once they step through the fence surrounding the field.

Rodney turns in circles, taking in the rectangular green surface, adorned with white stripes, with buckets of fuzzy yellow balls stationed every 20 feet, the bleachers on all sides.

Tennis courts.

“Great. It could have been hockey, but nooooo.”

“Don’t worry. I was junior champ at Congressional three years in a row. This one’s in the bag.” Sheppard winks and slaps him on the back and Rodney knows that’s practically a guarantee.

***

Rodney lifts his glass. “To the champions.”

“To the champion,” Sheppard corrects but he does so with such an open smile that Rodney smiles back, taps his glass against Sheppard’s and takes a long swig of the thick, sweet liquor called Manzo.

Its Rodney’s third tumbler full since the victory ceremony and he’s feeling pleasantly buzzed. One glance at Sheppard’s flushed face and Rodney suspects he’s not the only one. For a moment, the buzzed feeling bleeds over into something sexual but Rodney fights it. He's not supposed to feel that way anymore, and John – no, Sheppard -- looks happy. He doesn't want to ruin this. Not tonight.

As the winners, they are given prime accommodations in the Presidential palace, a set of ceremonial pajamas and a jug of Manzo. Tradition requires that they rest, drink and partake of good fellowship and they decide to do exactly that.

Their room overlooks the lighted game field and they stand there, their shoulders almost touching. Rodney leans against the sill, sipping at his Manzo with his eyes on Sheppard. The clothing they’ve been given is lightweight with a cotton-like feel, soft and soothing. It’s all very conducive to fellowship, Rodney notices, maybe a little too conducive.

They aren’t pajamas of course, but that’s what they look like – the 50s version, with button down tops and drawstring pants. They’d had a good laugh at each other once they emerged from the dressing room.

Rodney feels silly in the getup. But on Sheppard, the outfit looks rakish and sexy and Rodney feels that knowledge thrumming warmly through his body. It’s the Manzo, he tells himself, but he knows that’s a lie. It’s Sheppard. It’s always been Sheppard.

As a distraction, Rodney starts to talk. “So. Why am I not surprised that you were a tennis champion?”

Sheppard shrugs and ducks his head and Rodney’s heart twists a little at that expression of shyness. “My old man made my brother and me take lessons. It was easy for me, I guess.”

“Why should that be any different?” Rodney shoots back.

Sheppard looks away from the view and right at him. “Not everything is easy for me, Rodney,” he says in a thick voice and at once, Rodney regrets his words.

“Oh, wait. I didn’t – I was just kidding.” But suddenly, the easy camaraderie they’d shared throughout the day dissipates and the air feels charged with tension.

It’s been hell, this situation between them. Rodney always feels like he’s walking on eggshells around Sheppard and that’s never been Rodney’s strong suit. It’s hard to remember they can’t touch anymore and he’s still not over the sharp unfairness of that.

But their friendship means as much to Rodney as ever and he’s determined to preserve that now, even if that’s all he’ll have.

“Hey. We’re supposed to be fellowshipping here. So let’s change the subject. And get more Manzo.” He brings the jug over to Sheppard and by then, some of the lines around Sheppard’s mouth have disappeared. He pours them both another glassful and sets the jug near their feet. “I want to make a toast.”

This time, Sheppard’s smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Okay. Shoot.”

“To – ah” Rodney struggles for a moment before he hits upon something innocuous. “To playing tennis in BDUs and combat boots. And to good fellowship.”

Sheppard smirks and clinks his glass against Rodney’s. “To good fellowship.”

He notices that Sheppard barely takes a sip before putting the glass down. “Don’t you like the Manzo?”

“It’s a little too Cherry Coke for my taste. I’m not much for liquor, anyway. Or Cherry Coke for that matter.”

“No. I guess adrenaline is your drug of choice, huh?”

Sheppard’s gaze is hot and restless as it moves over Rodney, from head to foot. “It’s one of them.”

Rodney can feel that look, feel it like fingerprints on his bare skin, like the hungry heat of the first time they touched. Rodney shivers beneath the intensity of that gaze. “Sheppard? I’m confused. And believe me, that’s not something you’ll hear from me often.”

“I was wrong, okay? I screwed up. I can’t – give this up.”

Rodney lets Sheppard take the glass from his hand, lets him lean closer and press a slow, tender kiss against his neck. Rodney slides his arms around John’s tall body and holds him close, breathing him in, reveling in this hard fought victory.

“John?” He hadn’t allowed himself to even think “John” in weeks but now, it’s the only coherent thought in his head. “You’re sure – you won’t – you’re sure this time?”

“I’m sure, I’m positive. I’ve missed you, Rodney. God, I’ve missed you,” and then they’re kissing, hard – again – at last. Finally.


End file.
